


Got Your Back

by myrthrilmercury



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt Fill, Protective Siblings, Psychological Trauma, Russian Mythology, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:56:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrthrilmercury/pseuds/myrthrilmercury
Summary: No matter what, they always had one another's backs.





	Got Your Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theladyscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/gifts).



Phil was the best brother anyone could hope to have.

It had been that way since they were both young. Unlike the other kids, he didn’t dismiss or make fun of Amanda when she became interested in hockey. Instead, he showed her the ropes.

He’d guide her tiny hands over the stick, showing her the proper grip. He’d stand next to her at the rink with his arm around her, pointing out all the spots on the ice she needed to watch out for.

And when the older kids ganged up on her at the playground because _hockey is for boys,_ at least one of them would end up with a bloody nose, since that was where Phil’s fist tended to land.

Phil supported everything Amanda took on, no matter how crazy it was. Maybe that was why he was the only person who didn’t freak out when she decided to start hunting demons for hire.

Unlike Blake and their parents, Phil didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well, they’re not paying you to play hockey, so you might as well do _something_ for money, eh?”

And Amanda just laughed, because that was exactly why she had come up with the idea. 

Phil had even been willing to spar with her so she could get the hang of the twin daggers she’d chosen as her weapons. Of course she’d started with wooden ones for training at first, which proved to be a very good precaution until her aim became more proficient. Amanda gave up counting how many times she’d accidentally whacked Phil until she learned to control her swing. Phil would simply shrug it off and just wear long-sleeved shirts until all of the shiners faded, even if it was the middle of August.

When Amanda finally killed her first demon—an imp that had been terrorizing Little League players at Branch Brook Park—Phil seemed prouder of her than when she had won silver in Sochi or gold in the IIHF.

The work wasn’t very steady at first. There’d be the occasional djinn or lamia, but oftentimes her daggers would just sit dormant under her bed.

Until Phil got Amanda her big break.

Amanda was worried about paying for the round-trip plane tickets on such short notice—why did airlines make quick trips across the country so impossible? Phil insisted that she shouldn’t worry and that he’d send her the money. He just needed her to get to Glendale that night. Besides, his panicked tone when he called her in the middle of the night kept her from asking too many questions. Something had to be very, very wrong for this to be so urgent. 

She had just gotten off the plane in Phoenix and accepted the ride from the cab driver Phil had hired to pick her up when she discovered that things there were beyond wrong.

They were downright catastrophic. 

Amanda already had a premonition about the driver, but she’d figured it was just her imagination. But then he pulled off of I-10 several miles before the exit to Glendale and drove into a deserted area.

She began to complain, but when the driver turned his head towards the back seat to face her, she realized just how sound her premonition had been. 

The face that regarded her was no longer that of the middle-aged Latino who had picked her up. It was now jet-black, staring at her with beady red eyes and grinding its long, razor-sharp fangs together as its lips twisted into a sadistic grin.

It had probably thought she was an easy mark. What it didn’t know was that she’d rearmed herself with her daggers once she left the vicinity of the airport. She surprised herself by stabbing it right between the eyes, but then again, fear and adrenaline made people do strange things.

Amanda grabbed her luggage as quickly as she could and bailed out of the car before reaching into her pocket for her phone. Her plan to call for another ride fell to the wayside when she heard something slithering on the ground.

This wasn’t just any Arizona rattlesnake. This thing was bigger. _Much_ bigger.

And it was headed right towards her.

The daggers hadn’t been in Amanda’s hands for any more than three seconds when she heard the air move behind her. Sure enough, when she turned around, two large red eyes were staring right at her.

The amphisbaena was fast, but she was faster. The first head hadn’t even hit the ground before she lopped off the second one.

First a callicantzaro out of season, and now an amphisbaena. No wonder Phil had been freaking out. Maricopa County had a full-blown demon infestation.

Amanda sheathed her daggers and was just about to reach for her phone when she heard footsteps approaching.

_“Holy shit!”_ She couldn’t recognize the voice, but she’d heard it before. “Phil was right. You’re just what we need.”

It turned out the voice belonged to Max Domi, who had volunteered to go pick her up when she hadn’t arrived on time and Phil had become worried. When he wasn’t answering Amanda’s questions about the situation, he was busy gushing over what he had seen her do.

“You’re the best demon hunter I’ve seen,” he babbled. “Way better than that guy we had three years ago. I’m gonna tell everyone else about you.”

Domi was a man of his word. Even before she found the cause of Maricopa County’s demon infestation (a cursed kachina doll, which was promptly burnt), she had five jobs lined up with the rest of the NHL. 

And once those jobs were finished, and word spread even further, the money started rolling in. 

Sure, some of the jobs were incredibly dangerous, if not downright gross at times (like the day when her clothes were ruined by Arachne venom). But she no longer needed a roommate. 

Through it all, Phil was her biggest cheerleader, oftentimes brushing aside his own accomplishments in order to heap on the praise and superlatives. Amanda never said much in response, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that it made her feel downright awesome.

However, the praise didn’t help with Amanda’s latest job, which made her incredibly nervous. At least it was in downtown Pittsburgh, so she’d be close to Phil. But her target was a cockatrice, and she wasn’t very good at fighting anything that could fly.

To make matters even worse, Amanda had followed it to its nest on the roof of PPG Place’s glass tower. She was 40 floors up, where it had the advantage. There was very little room for error; as it was a long, long way down to the streets below. 

The cockatrice knew it had the advantage and was just playing with her. So far, Amanda was managing to dodge its talons every time it attempted to dive-bomb her from the air, but she knew what it was trying to do. She had to keep running every time it circled in the sky above her, or she’d be a sitting duck the next time it dove at her.

Eventually, she’d get too tired to run any more. And no matter how close it got to her, as long as it was airborne, she couldn’t get a good shot in. 

Amanda jumped out of the way, barely making it in time to evade the talons swooping down towards her. She had to come up with something, and fast. 

Suddenly, the cockatrice screeched in agony as it crashed onto the roof behind her.

Amanda froze in her tracks, sliding her hands across the handles of her daggers as she turned to investigate. The cockatrice was now bleeding from a wound in its left wing. She couldn’t figure out what the object now embedded in the wing was, but she didn’t have to wonder for very long. 

Two consecutive arrows shot through the air and landed in the vicinity of the now-gaping wound before she heard someone shout.

_“Amanda, now!”_

“Phil?!” There was no mistaking it. The voice was definitely Phil’s.

_“I’ve got your back!”_ One more arrow, this one to the cockatrice’s right wing, emphasized Phil’s point.

Amanda drew her daggers as she charged forward, ducking to avoid the steady fire of arrows above her that were keeping the cockatrice grounded. When she was close enough to slice through the heavily wounded left wing in front of her, an arrow to the base of the cockatrice’s neck sent it hurtling down towards her. 

This was much closer to her skill set. With the neck splayed out across the ground in front of Amanda, it only took a few seconds for one dagger, then the next, to slice the cockatrice’s head clean off. 

After one more slice to confirm the cockatrice was dead, Amanda stepped backwards and away from the rapidly expanding pool of blood before finally turning around to look behind her.

Phil was standing at the entrance to the rooftop access with a recurve crossbow in his hands and a quiver strapped to his back.

Amanda opened her mouth to say something, but the hybrid of emotions and adrenaline robbed her of her ability to speak.

They stood in silence for several long moments before Phil broke the ice. “I didn’t think you could take on a flyer alone, eh?”

Amanda took a deep breath and held it for a bit before finally managing to ask, “How did you know I was here?”

“Carl said the bigwigs here hired you.” Amanda couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that Phil had dispensed with Haggy’s nickname. Those two were awfully close, after all. “But you only have short-range weapons and I didn’t want anything happening to you.”

Phil’s admission was a sucker punch to Amanda’s heart. “…Thanks. You saved my life.”

“I had to. I’m your big brother.”

Amanda grinned as she headed over to where Phil was standing. “Okay, first of all, how do you even know how to use that thing? And how did you know to hit the neck?”

“In both cases, I looked it up,” Phil replied with a grin. 

“Heh.” Of course Phil was being intentionally vague again.

“Listen, I…” Phil’s expression grew serious. “I don’t want you doing this alone anymore. It’s getting too dangerous.”

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” After all, this was the first time Amanda had ever been in any true mortal danger. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

“Um, maybe that you could have died?” 

Amanda shrugged her shoulders, having to give Phil that one.

“I don’t want anything happening to you. So…” Phil raised his crossbow. “How about a partner?” 

Even though their schedules didn’t always allow them to stay together, Amanda very rarely worked alone from that point on. Although her pride would never allow her to admit it to anyone else, she was glad to have Phil around. 

Phil saved her a second time when she was finishing up a job in Philadelphia. She’d gone to watch Phil’s game against the Flyers, and headed over to the visitors’ locker room to say hi. Unfortunately, Brandon Manning had followed her, and wouldn’t take no for an answer when he kept bugging her for a date.

The Flyers organization soon had to try and explain to the media why Manning was in the hospital getting thirteen arrows removed: one from his left arm, seven from his back, and five from his ass. (Phil later told her he was aiming for Manning’s asshole, but couldn’t get a clear shot.) 

It wasn’t just the companionship or the fact that her big brother would protect her. Somehow, having a partner also emboldened her. No matter how dangerous the jobs became, she’d rush right in without a second thought, knowing Phil would cover her.

There was no longer any reason to hesitate. She’d be perfectly fine.

After all, Phil had her back.

***

Amanda was the best sister anyone could hope to have.

She’d always been there for Phil, from staying overnight in the hospital when he was afraid to be alone, to picking up the phone at 2:30 AM without complaining when he needed to call and vent during sleepless nights while he was in Toronto. 

Amanda had also been the voice of reason when Phil had his doubts about being traded to Pittsburgh. She insisted the trade was a chance to start over with a clean slate.

It certainly didn’t feel that way at first; not when Phil still wore the scarlet letter from Toronto and the Penguins couldn’t keep any winning streaks going. But Amanda continued to insist everything would be fine, no matter how many times she had to reiterate her point.

Then suddenly, everything began to change. 

Right around the time Amanda began hunting demons for hire, the Penguins got a new coach, and several new players—one in particular.

No matter how many times he thought back on it, Phil couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was he felt when he met Carl Hagelin, but somehow, this was _different._

It wasn’t just that it felt right to shake his hand, or that they took a liking to one another right away. Somehow, the more time Phil and Carl spent together, the fog that had shrouded Phil’s heart and mind dissipated, and for the first time in years, he could clearly see the night sky.

When Phil picked up his crossbow for the first time, it was actually due to Carl, not Amanda.

Amanda downplayed her achievements, but if she’d actually bothered to look up any of the statistics, she was now the highest-paid demon hunter in the business. Carl had an odd fascination with her exploits, and would listen intently whenever Phil told her about one of her jobs.

It wasn’t until after their game in Detroit that Phil began to face his demons, both figuratively and literally.

He’d gone out for a few beers with Geno and Bones after everything had wrapped up, and decided to call it an early night. The streets were deserted as he headed back to the hotel. It was a clear night, but it did seem awfully windy all of a sudden.

Phil froze in his tracks when he realized the sound he was hearing was not the wind blowing. He remained silent and motionless for a long while, trying to discern exactly what the echo was.

A sudden gust of wind knocked him over as he heard something roar. The shadow soaring in the skies above eclipsed the full moon for a few brief moments before swooping down close enough for Phil to make out its shape.

Phil scrambled to get back up as he recognized the dragon’s head, reptilian body, massive wings, and forked tail. What he had been hearing all along were the beating wings of a wyvern that had been on the hunt for dinner.

And, judging by the claws swinging at Phil as it dove towards him, he was the main course. 

Phil threw himself back on the sidewalk just in time to avoid getting skewered, but the wyvern wasn’t giving up. It had already circled back around and was diving down again as Phil frantically ran towards the parking garage at the end of the block. If he could just duck inside—

Although Phil was fast, the wyvern was faster. Phil dove away from the first set of claws lunging towards his right shoulder, but was unable to retreat before the other set snared his upper left arm, plunging into the skin at three separate points. 

Phil shrieked in agonizing pain at the impact as he tried and immediately abandoned one last effort to wrest himself free when he felt his feet leave the ground and realized he was being carried away. His stomach churned as he caught a glimpse of the blood dripping onto the pavement several feet below.

_“Let go of him!”_

The wyvern turned abruptly towards the sound as it screeched in annoyance. A sudden blur of motion darted past Phil far too quickly for him to make it out. Whatever it was, it made the wyvern squawk in pain before the claws retracted their grip on Phil’s arm, sending him plummeting down towards the ground.

“Hold on to me!” Before Phil had time to panic, there was another blur of motion before someone’s arm was intertwined with his right arm. Instinctively, Phil pulled the other arm in towards him before turning his head to see…

“Carl?” The long flaxen hair and cobalt eyes next to Phil definitely belonged to Carl. But what Phil saw only raised more questions. How was Carl in midair, and why was he holding a glaive in his right hand?

They landed harmlessly on the sidewalk in front of the parking garage. Carl turned his head to look at Phil as he gently tugged on Phil’s arm, silently encouraging him to let go. 

“You’ll be safe in there,” Carl advised as he motioned towards the garage’s entrance with the glaive’s blade. “I got this.” 

“What—” Before Phil could finish his question, Carl raised his glaive and jumped several feet into the air. Phil stood rooted to the ground for a few moments, dumbfounded, before the wyvern’s call jolted him back to reality.

Carl was right. He needed to get to safety. Phil dashed over to the parking garage and stooped under the turnstile before ducking into the ticket booth and peering out the window.

The wyvern shrieked again, this time in pain, and a torrent of blood rained down onto the street before Carl landed back on the sidewalk. Phil could see the wyvern again, now that it was attempting to dive-bomb Carl while disregarding the five-foot gash underneath its right wing.

Carl held the glaive in both hands this time as he jumped once more, twirling it above his head as he and the wyvern careened towards one another. The wyvern’s path was thwarted by the glaive’s movement, which stunned and sent it reeling backwards. Almost immediately, Carl tossed the glaive back into his right hand and thrust his arm forward in an arcing motion, slicing the wyvern’s chest wide open. He then kicked his right leg off an unsullied patch of the wyvern’s skin and used it to propel himself further into the air, then chose to land on the roof of a nearby bar. 

Blood gushed out of its gaping wound as the wyvern landed on the street with a violent thud that caused the ground underneath Phil to shake. Phil watched in utter astonishment as Carl jumped off the rooftop and raised his right arm, aiming the glaive towards the wyvern before diving back down and impaling the wyvern’s head when he landed. 

No wonder Carl had been so fascinated by Amanda’s line of work. Carl had a secret of his own. 

Phil and Amanda had both heard legends and rumors over the years, but dragon lancers truly did exist. Carl was living proof. 

Phil rushed out of the ticket booth and ran over to Carl as quickly as he could. “Carl!” Phil had run over so fast that he had to stop and take several panting breaths.

Carl cleaned the blood from his glaive with an old rag before placing it back in his coat pocket. “I’m sorry I didn’t come in time.” 

“It’s okay,” Phil heaved through shallow breaths. He took one deep breath and paused to swallow; collecting his thoughts before speaking again. “Carl…thank you. You saved my life.”

Carl nodded solemnly. “I’ll always come running whenever you need me.” 

“Carl?” Phil’s eyes grew wide. Could it be…?

“Oh, you’re injured!” Carl removed the cashmere scarf from his neck. Phil looked over at his arm, and realized that the wyvern’s claws had torn his coat open, and he was bleeding from three distinct points. His coat and shirt underneath were soaked with blood.

Before Phil had time to think or react, Carl wrapped his scarf around Phil’s arm, then tied it off to create a tourniquet.

“That’s cashmere,” Phil blubbered in surprise. “Really expensive, eh? It’s gonna get ruined.”

Carl shook his head. “I don’t care. C’mon, let’s get you to the doctors.” 

Carl escorted Phil back to the hotel and woke the team doctors, telling them that Phil had been attacked by a wyvern while leaving out the parts about his having killed it. Fortunately, the wounds were not as severe as they could have been thanks to Carl’s treatment. The doctors patched up Phil and sent him and Carl on their way.

They weren’t rooming together, but Carl stayed and talked with Phil for hours. When Phil asked Carl why he became a dragon lancer, a consummate sadness washed over Carl as the memories returned: the _real_ reason that Bobbie retired from hockey. 

Carl had been home on Christmas break from Michigan, and he and Bobbie took the opportunity to go practice on their favorite lake, which they had done together since childhood.

Everything went well until the patch of ice behind Bobbie suddenly shattered, creating additional fissures nearby. When Bobbie tried to escape, a hand seized his skate and pulled him under the ice. 

Carl barreled over to the fresh hole and held his stick near the water. Bobbie immediately emerged, gasping for air as he held onto the blade for dear life. Carl began pulling Bobbie back to the surface, and was halfway done when he heard Bobbie scream. The stick snapped in half as Bobbie was pulled back underneath the ice. 

Before Carl could move, the demon that took Bobbie popped out of the water. Carl gasped in horror at what he saw: a naked young woman who had clearly been dead for some time, judging by her long white hair, partially decomposed flesh, and red eyes. She looked Carl in the eyes and smiled cruelly before speaking the words that haunted Carl to that very day:

_“He’s mine.”_

With that, the rusalka swung her right arm at Carl, nailing him in the chest with an open-handed strike that sent him flying backwards into midair; keeping him airborne until he crashed into a massive spruce tree. The impact shook the entire tree, causing it to dump the snowy contents of its branches right onto the already-injured Carl.

When Carl regained consciousness, he and Bobbie were both in the hospital. Carl had four broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Bobbie remained in a coma for a week.

Bobbie woke to discover that during his underwater struggle with the rusalka, she had damaged his leg so severely his tibia and fibula completely shattered, and that the surgeons had replaced the bones with a metal rod so that Bobbie could stand or walk. He would never skate again.

Bobbie was inconsolable for over a month. Carl not only blamed himself, he _hated_ himself. He hated himself for being unable to protect Bobbie, and for being so weak the rusalka could defeat him with one strike.

So Carl chose the path of the dragon lancer. Maybe then, he could make it up to Bobbie.

Once Carl completed his training, he’d jump up and across the rooftops of buildings from time to time, patrolling whatever city he was in at night and killing the occasional demon. Somehow, with every demon killed, it felt as if Carl was avenging his older brother; the sibling that he had failed. 

Carl had never told anyone about his exploits as a dragon lancer; not even Bobbie or his other family members. 

Carl’s story tugged at Phil’s heartstrings, but it also made Phil wonder: what would he have done if that had been him and Amanda?

Phil thought long and hard about it before realizing that he probably would have done the exact same thing, albeit differently. He wasn’t cut out for aerial combat.

Before hearing what had happened to Bobbie, Phil had never worried about Amanda hunting demons. She was strong, smart, and tough. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

But what if the job got _too_ dangerous? After all, Amanda used twin daggers. While they were good for quick strikes and short-range combat, she’d never be able to take on any flying demons without being at a serious disadvantage.

Phil began researching long-range weapons and decided that a crossbow would be best. Amanda might not need his help, but he wanted to be prepared just in case. 

Amanda never seemed to care about the dangers of her new line of work when Phil hinted at them, though he never told her about the crossbow. Instead, she would zero in on how close Phil was getting to Carl, as well as the inordinate amount of time the two spent together.

It wasn’t that Phil didn’t like him, but that Amy had obliterated his faith in love three years prior. He’d been dating her for almost two years, and she had been perfectly fine with the fact that it was highly unlikely he’d be able to father children up until she suddenly decided that she wasn’t. The last thing he needed was to have his heart broken again. 

Phil would evade the subject whenever Amanda brought it up until one call when she finally asked: “What are you so afraid of?”

Phil never answered her question. He didn’t even have a good answer whenever he asked it of himself.

He was pondering that exact subject after morning skate had wrapped up, remaining silent as he caught bits and pieces of the locker room conversation about a cockatrice at PPG Place. He wasn’t so sure about the whole “expressing your feelings” thing Amanda kept talking about, but at least it was a conversation starter. He could just go from there. 

It turned out that Carl already knew about the cockatrice. “Yeah, I went to see what was going on, but it looks like they’ve already hired Amanda to take care of it. I saw her downtown with her daggers.”

Phil felt his heart stop and his hand go limp as he dropped the water bottle he had been holding. He remained rooted to the ground for several long moments, not even bothering to retrieve the bottle. Carl had confirmed his worst fear. 

“…Phil?” Carl tilted his head in concern.

Without another word, Phil grabbed his things and ran out of CONSOL like a bat out of hell. Once he started his car, he slammed on the gas and sped back to his house, weaving in and out of lanes as he disregarded the traffic around him. Stella ran to the door to greet him when he arrived, but she would have to wait until later. He barreled up the stairs to his bedroom and grabbed his crossbow, then got right back into his car and drove just as recklessly as before, redlining the engine the entire time. 

Phil pulled onto the sidewalk in front of PPG Place and slammed on the brakes before pulling the parking brake. He barely remembered to turn off the engine before grabbing his crossbow and jumping out, not even bothering to lock the car before bursting through the main entrance and making a beeline towards the open door in the elevator bank. 

Even though Phil smashed the button for the 40th floor and repeatedly pounded the close door button, the elevator was still too damn slow, even though it went straight up without any stops. Considering how deserted it was inside and outside of the building, odds were that the area had been evacuated. 

The doors were barely even open before Phil clambered out and rushed up and down the hallways, searching frantically for the rooftop access. His efforts grew more urgent the longer he was unsuccessful, even as his legs began to ache from overexertion. 

Once he finally found the rooftop access, he threw open the door and paused to load his crossbow. He panted heavily; teetering near the brink of collapse after having come off the longest shift of his life. 

But he couldn’t rest now. He was running on pure adrenaline now as he sprinted up the final two flights of stairs to the roof.

The next few moments were a blur as Phil’s training and instincts kicked in. He became a machine; loading and shooting arrows as quickly as his hands and the crossbow would allow. Covering Amanda became much more important after he called out to her and she went in for the kill. If he screwed up, he could put them both in jeopardy.

He didn’t. More importantly, neither did Amanda. 

Thankfully, Amanda wasn’t injured, but it had been much too close for Phil’s comfort. It was right then and there he decided that he didn’t want her working alone anymore. Unsurprisingly, she initially insisted that she could take care of herself. Fortunately, though, she was perceptive to gentle persuasion.

Once Phil and Amanda started working together, Carl began to change. Not only did he worry about Phil getting hurt during one of Amanda’s jobs, but he also wanted Phil to start accompanying him on his own patrols.

When Phil asked him why, Carl avoided the question, simply stating: “I just want you nearby, is all.” 

Phil wasn’t sure how much help he could offer Carl. After all, Carl had been working alone for years. Wouldn’t he just get in the way?

But Carl didn’t seem to mind. He seemed to enjoy Phil’s company. 

Most of the time, they didn’t even encounter any demons. But once it stopped being scary, getting a bird’s-eye view of Pittsburgh and the other cities they played in as Carl jumped across buildings and rooftops was exhilarating. 

And when they did end up fighting demons, Phil discovered that Carl was more of a Casey Jones than a Bruce Wayne. While Carl did want to avenge Bobbie, he also wanted to help others. He just didn’t want anyone to know it had been him. 

Accompanying Carl turned out to be a good idea after all. Not only did Phil get to spend more time with him, but even with Carl doing most of the work, Phil got more fighting experience. From this, he felt much more confident that he could protect Amanda when she needed him.

Amanda picked up on the additional time Phil spent with Carl right away. At first, he didn’t want to tell her that Carl was a dragon lancer; as he felt telling her Carl’s biggest secret would constitute betrayal. 

But it was also wrong to keep secrets from Amanda. After getting her to swear to secrecy, he told her about his patrols with Carl, and how Carl had saved him from the wyvern.

Unfortunately, he did not move the phone away from his head soon enough, and she screamed at the top of her lungs right into his right ear. 

“What the _fuck,_ eh?!” Phil moved the phone to his left ear, since his right one was still ringing. “Are you trying to make me go deaf?”

“He really _is_ your Swedish prince!” Amanda squealed excitedly. 

“Why do you keep calling him that?”

“He swooped in to rescue you, sacrificed a super-expensive scarf to patch up your arm, and you still don’t think he likes you?! Really?! HEL- _LO!”_

Phil frowned in contemplation as he began to realize that Amanda might be right. “You know, now that I think about it…he did say something else to me that night.”

“Yeah?” Amanda prompted.

“I thanked him for saving my life…and he said he’d always come running whenever I needed him.”

This time, Phil was able to throw the phone onto the couch before Amanda split his other eardrum. Phil picked up the phone again once she finally quit screaming.

“Seriously, Phil. I’ve asked you this before. What are you so afraid of?” 

Phil took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know.” Actually, he really _did_ know; he just didn’t want to think or talk about it. 

“You like him, don’t you?”

“…I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Well, you have to tell him how you feel. Nothing will ever happen unless you do.”

Once that conversation wrapped up, Phil spent the next few days thinking long and hard about her words. How would he tell Carl? Ask him on a date? Write him a letter? Pull him aside somewhere? No matter what ideas he came up with, none of them seemed appropriate.

It soon turned out that he didn’t need to worry so much.

They were hanging out at Carl’s house, and had just wrapped up an episode of _Westworld_ when the conversation turned to Phil and Amanda’s recent exploits. Phil couldn’t help but brag that it was him who’d killed the amphiptere terrorizing Chicago, not Amanda. 

Carl was genuinely proud of Phil, praising him profusely. When Phil discussed some of Amanda’s recent jobs without him, Carl nodded, adding: “I can see why you’re proud and worried about her at the same time. I mean, she’s the most important person in your life.”

“No,” Phil declared. _“You’re_ the most important person in my life. Amanda is second.” 

“I…” Carl’s cheeks flushed as his jaw hung open. “I’m the most important?”

Phil suddenly realized: he’d just told Carl how he felt. “Yeah. I know you were upset about the trades, what with being away from Zucc and Brass. I get it, eh? I miss Bozie. But I’m glad we both ended up here, because otherwise, I would have never met you.”

“Phil…” Carl clasped Phil’s hands in both of his as he gazed right into Phil’s eyes. “Do you know why I wanted you to come on my patrols with me?”

“You wanted me nearby, right?”

“That’s only part of it. After that wyvern attacked you, it made me think, first Bobbie, and then I was afraid it might be you. … But if I had you right there with me, I knew I could keep you safe.” Carl scooted over on the couch so that their legs were touching and rested his hands on the sides of Phil’s arms. “I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you, ever again. I love you.”

“I…” Phil squeezed his eyes shut, overcome by emotion. “I never thought you could love someone like me…”

Carl gently placed a hand on Phil’s left cheek. “I love you because you’re _you.”_

“I love you too, Carl.” Once Phil felt Carl’s arms around him, he placed his hands on Carl’s waist and pulled him closer before an abrupt twinge of anxiety caused him to hesitate.

Suddenly Amanda’s words echoed in Phil’s mind: _What are you so afraid of?_

Phil was done being afraid. He leaned forward and sealed the remaining distance between them as he found Carl’s mouth with his own.

There were many firsts from that night on: their first date, their first time, their first Cup, the first time they moved in together at the beginning of the season.

Amanda remained in Phil’s corner throughout it all over the next four years: the wins, the losses, the injuries, coming out to the team and the public, and the three Cups Carl and Phil won together.

But it was now that Phil needed her the most; as he sat staring at his reflection in one of the back rooms of Monona Terrace trying to calm the butterflies swarming in his stomach. 

“You decent?” Amanda asked before knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Phil was too busy thanking the hockey gods that Carl had been perfectly okay with not writing any fancy vows. He knew he’d be too nervous to read them in front of everyone, but never expected to be this nervous.

Amanda came in and closed the door behind her “Where’s Bozie?”

“Off wrangling the groomsmen. Thought that was your job, eh?” It wasn’t, but Amanda had put herself in charge of much of the planning and decorating. Phil was perfectly fine with that arrangement, as it meant he didn’t have to worry about any of it. 

“Nah, I’ll let him handle it.” Amanda handed a yellow freesia corsage to Phil. She was right: it did match her black tea-length gown nicely. “Can you help me get this on?” 

Phil silently took the corsage and tied it on Amanda’s left wrist. “That good?”

“That’s perfect. Thanks.” There was a brief silence before Amanda placed a hand on Phil’s right shoulder. “Well…this is it.”

“…Yeah.” 

“Nervous?”

“Fuckin’ terrified.”

Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle. “Relax, you’ll be fine. We all made sure everything’s gonna go perfectly. Just think of how much fun the reception will be.” Amanda’s eyes narrowed slightly as her lips twisted into a wry smile. “And don’t you two have a hot tub up in that room?”

“Can you not?” It was bad enough that Blake had already been joking about the wedding night. Phil didn’t need it from Amanda as well.

“I’m kidding!” Amanda lifted her hand to stifle her giggling, but stopped when she remembered her lipstick. 

The conversation came to a halt when Bozie opened the door and poked his head into the room. “It’s time. Everyone’s lined up.”

“Okay,” Phil replied. “Be right there.”

“You got this.” Bozie pulled back from the doorway and walked away, leaving the door open. Amanda started heading towards the open door, but stopped when she realized Phil was still standing where he had risen from his chair.

“Relax.” Amanda beamed as she walked back to Phil and offered him her hand. “I got you.”

“…Okay.” Phil couldn’t help but smile as well as he placed his hand in Amanda’s. 

“Let’s go.” Amanda clasped Phil’s hand and began walking the path to the Grand Terrace with Phil in tow.

Amanda’s instinct had been right, as always. Though there were still some residual nerves, Phil really _did_ feel better having Amanda bringing him to Bozie and the groomsmen. 

There was no reason to be so nervous. He’d be perfectly fine.

After all, Amanda had his back.


End file.
